To Know For Sure
by Lampazo
Summary: He had long stopped investigating, what it was – a joke, a tease, a glimpse of desire, or maybe something more. But this time he would know for sure.


**To know for sure.**

**Summary: **He had long stopped investigating, what it was – a joke, a tease, a glimpse of desire, or maybe something more. But this time he would know for sure.

**Warning****:** Rated M for sexual actions.

**Betaing: **TaintedMoonlight.

* * *

**Dedicated to:**

_TaintedMoonlight_, for all her multifaceted, amusing fics and thoughtful betaing;

and

_lovesrainscent_, who alternates writing finest Naruto smut available with bringing up serious mature subjects.

* * *

Stretching his back idly, Shikamaru continued observing examination class - big enough to seat all the Chuunin competitors of this year.

The room was generally quiet, except for occasional rustles of paper and children's coughs. The air was hot and dry, filled with afternoon sun, penetrating through the big and dusty windows. As usual in Suna, sand and almost invisible dust seemed to be everywhere, so he was grateful for grey color of his proctor's uniform. He shifted his gaze to find another proctor at the opposite side of the class, sitting straight at her desk, perusing students thoughtfully. Shikamaru sighed soundlessly; Temari always took her duty very seriously; he could recall several arguments between them about the written exam – she was pushing its importance, much higher than he was, so it ended with them coming up with the now common scheme: with her leading the whole action, asking most questions, and sitting in front of students and with him sitting beside them, supporting her wordlessly and watching for cheaters. That, and of course helping her check all the work after that – there was no way she was going to let him skip paperwork.

It seemed that her white proctor's outfit was immune to any sort of dust or dirt. It was still perfectly clean and pristine, ivory to milky color, and undeniably suited her (though he was secretly certain that she would look okay even in Naruto's jumpsuit). In comparison with the thick and light material, her skin was looking even more tanned, more smooth; her faded hair was shining, like old gold and her eyes were possessing that rare tint of bluefish green, which he'd come to know could be seen only in bright sun or when she was truly glad. He had noticed long ago, that her eyes were able to change color almost completely, depending on weather, time of a day, more subtle circumstances, but most of all – because of her mood. They could be light and bright, shining like ocean water – like now, when they were reflecting sunlight; they could be deep and dark, blue almost close to violet, reminding him of liquid iron; most of the time, though, they were opaque and solid, like amalgam – never letting anyone look through it, but there were rare moments when one would be able to read and tell a million things from her eyes alone. He could tell. He knew her pattern, her traces – knew more than most of people, more than she thought he knew, more than he would consider a normal amount of knowledge.

Everyone, even the ones who weren't acquainted with her personally, knew how harsh, capable, self-confident, headstrong and sometimes brutal she was – it was widely known. He knew much more.

He knew, that she loathed katanas – he couldn't find out the reason clearly, but had suspected that it was related to her early childhood. Even though she was an incredibly tough and persistent ninja, she wasn't able to overcome that phobia for a long time, but, because she was _Temari_, she had trained a lot with weapons to leave the katana behind – and that was one of the reasons, why Tenten was defeated so miserably during Chuunin exams long ago. Temari knew her weapons.

She was allergic to all kinds of citrus – and that was very confusing, because it meant she couldn't taste half the deserts Suna was famous for. He discovered that bit of information, during one of receptions in Konoha in which she was too proud and polite to refuse a slice of lemon pie., That had resulted in him becoming a personal slave to the feverish and scratching woman for three days accompanied by her threatening him to half-death to not say a word to anyone about her allergy. He still found that rather interesting that she didn't want anyone to know.

She was petrified of losing her precious people. He came to realize when he first saw such an instance that when it happened or was close to happening, it was as if something was breaking inside her. Baki was delivered in Konoha that day, and she arrived with him. His cancer, which had been ongoing for a while, was on it last stage already, and there was nothing even Tsunade could do with this, except shutting his pain down - so they were just waiting for inevitable. Temari was in waiting room or his palate almost all the time until he passed away – quiet, pale and distant.

Shikamaru used his still actual, even if ridiculous after all this years, guide appointment as an excuse to be with her most of the time, but he still wasn't aware that she had even noticed him then. After Baki's death she left almost immediately, to return as the Suna representative two months later as usual loud and collected Temari everyone knew, but Shikamaru had already made his own conclusions.

She hated chemistry – it was almost humorous, but she really did, and, being completely competent with other sciences, always left all the chemistry sums for Shikamaru's checking.

He smirked absentmindedly and traced his finger on the chemistry textbook, lying on the desk next to him. Ironically, it was chemistry that could describe the things he felt for her.

He always thought that he was incapable of such strong emotions. But she proved him wrong, changed his patterns, even if he _was_ doing his best not to show it.

He was used to hundreds of thoughts in his head, but, when she was around, a number could be suddenly increased to thousands, or be decreased to absolute zero.

It wasn't love at first sight. He couldn't even remember clearly the first time he had met her – somewhere along that first Chuunin exam, and he certainly wasn't mesmerized that first time. But somewhere between their battle at the main arena and their saying goodbye near Konoha gates after her saving him, there came that tingling feeling, like everything was a little more contrasting and three-dimensional when she was around, and it felt strangely satisfactory when she was talking to him. It took him a lot of time to sort out that he was attracted, but a wise man knows himself, and he did nothing to deny it inwardly, sort of watching himself falling for her – deeper and deeper through years.

It wasn't that his heart was jumping into his throat every time she entered the room, or that he was thinking about her all the time.

But, when she was entering, he could occasionally stop whatever he was doing for a half a moment, and then continue without any other signs of acknowledging her. And from time to time, seeing something like orange, or heap of sand, he would spend half of the day wondering how she was, if she was okay, and letting her flow over his mind, pushing his thoughts in different directions – from lengthy monologues about difficulties of relationships between two shinobi from different countries, to naughty and certainly unappreciative ideas of what to do with her if they would finally complete one of the game of gazes and innuendos they were starting from time to time, but had never finished.

Like the one she was playing now.

She lifted her eyes from papers on her desk, looked around the room calmly; then suddenly locked stares with him, content and intense, for a couple of moments, and bended on a stool freely, arching her back even so slightly.

"Okay, kids, you have only two more minutes to go", - she stated, and then added, lowering her voice and letting it sound even more harsh and rough, than it always was, "Your hour is up, so after this two minutes I don't want see here anyone _except_ myself and Shikamaru-sensei."

Children had probably heard only menace in her voice, but he could tell that her phrase was aimed for him as well, for slightly non pedagogical purposes.

His mind was thinking, analyzing, deciding – should he accept her invitation finally? Was it an invitation really, or just a tease, one of those, in which she was incredibly good at? She had always flown away, without letting him realize, what it was – a joke, a glimpse of desire, or maybe something more? He would like to know _anything _for sure, but with this woman he could speak only about possibilities.

Being lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed the kids leaving the class, and was awakened only by sarcastic snort – turning his head, he saw Temari sitting hand-folded at her desk, smirking at him.

He _really_ would like to know anything for sure.

He smirked as well, pushing himself off the desk and rising on his feet. "The hell, Temari-sensei, such a stern person are you! Poor genins were probably _terrified_", he mocked, approaching and leaning his rear on the nearest desk to her table.

"Oh really? Haven't noticed", she replied, seemingly innocent, but her smirk and velvet eyes told otherwise. "Whatever", she stood and left her seat behind the table, stretching herself, so he had no other option than admire her impressive breast and smooth stomach. "I'm freaking numb!" she shared.

Rude move.

He watched silently how she walked around the table and leant against it, mirroring his pose.

"You must be hot", he didn't even try to sound genuine, "Muscles stiffen because of warmth, you know."

Temari arched an eyebrow, "Do they?" She raised her hands to her stand-up collar, "Must be it then." Looking him directly in eyes, she began to unbutton her jacket.

One button, another… Slow, painfully slow, she reached the point, where he almost witness that there was nothing but bra behind it, and quickly hooked up everything, up to her chin. "Wrong theory, genius-san."

He was sure at the moment that she would be able to beat any shogi world-champion, if there was one.

"Then maybe you just work too hard." he said, wondering, when his voice had started to sound so heavy.

"I have no other choice, with you as my partner. Someone should do the _work_." – She bent behind, resting her hands on the desk and looking at him with half-closed eyes.

Shikamaru felt all his stolidity flying out the window.

He should know for sure this time.

Stepping forward, he pinned her against the desk effectively, "Such an over-achiever. Let me inform you, I don't mind _working hard_ sometimes". He pressed forward a little, leaving her no space to maneuver.

Their faces were mere millimeters from each other, he could feel his and hers jacket buttons scratching each others. Surroundings faded to one light blur.

She bit her lip, exhaling near his chin "Won't believe it 'till I see it with my own eyes."

Their lips connected.

It was not was it meant to be.

It should be burning and dominant, full of pent-up desire, thick magma transforming into free fire: a result of flawlessly accomplished game.

It was anything but it.

Awkward and slow, delicate, overwhelming with long-hidden emotions, exploring, expecting. Telling much more than it was allowed.

They parted, him looking uncertainly yet eagerly into her eyes, and her looking everywhere but him, staring somewhere in space.

"Temari…" he whispered.

She seemed stunned.

"Temari", he tried again.

She flinched suddenly and turned her gaze to him. "Oh…No. No, no, no!" Pushing him away, she run to the door, pausing at the doorframe for a second to look at him with…Sorrow? Sadness? Shock? He didn't understand.

"No!" she repeated and ran out of classroom, leaving Shikamaru alone, completely out of thoughts.

* * *

Sun was melting somewhere into horizon, and one wall of his room was colored a fading red turning crimson. The room was darkening gradually, but he hardly paid any attention to it.

Shikamaru was sitting on the floor, opposite the door, smoking. Tenth cigarette, fifteenth – who was counting?

Since he came home a couple of hours ago, he had been trapped between two conditions – feverish stream of thoughts and dull, dense apathy.

He didn't even suspect before, how deeply, how mercilessly he loved her. This kiss, this confirmation, moved something inside him, one final piece, one final nail in his coffin.

But what was _her_ reaction?

She certainly wanted those kiss, he was positive. He could still feel her tender lips, her lingering fingers, her half-closed eyes. He shuddered.

But what was after? Was she disgusted? Or scared?

All his usually mighty brain resources were incapable of understanding her behavior. He could only pray for her to come and clarify the situation. She should. One way or another, she would come and explain it.

He needed to know for sure.

But now, when he was so close, he could feel himself reaching insanity by mere thought of losing her completely, without any doubts and any room for hope. He simply couldn't afford it.

He tried to block his thoughts and began to drown in apathy again, closing himself from any thinking process.

After the first knock he wasn't even sure if it was real or just his imagination, so he chose not to move, instead just listening. And then there was the second one.

He felt all blood draining out of his head, and pulse somewhere inside his stomach. What if it was not Temari? He was sure that disappointment could shatter him into pieces, and besides he certainly couldn't communicate with someone except her right now.

But what it was her? That should be the moment of truth then – thinking about it, he could sense sheer terror flowing over him, something more stunning than every emotion he had ever felt during the battle.

Slowly, with shaky legs, he reached door and touched door-knob. One, two, three…

Simultaneously with the third knock he opened the door fully to reveal rather pale but confident looking Temari.

"Care to let me in?"

Without any vocal signs of acknowledgment he sidestepped and let her move into the room, closing the door behind and enclosing it with his back. She couldn't escape without explanations this time.

"Guess there are some issues we need to discuss", she said sharply.

"Guess so."

They went silent for a while, observing their surroundings, no one willing to start first.

He took his time in observing her, noticing somewhere in back of his mind that she had changed her clothes – no formal proctor outfit, instead she wore was a loose light dress of an indecipherable color due to twilight, that failed to cling to her curves and just swirled around her, only tied tightly by her ever present obi.

"It means nothing. It never happened." She stated suddenly.

Shikamaru's eyes flew to her immediately. "What?!"

"You know…" She was not looking at him, her face blank, "this accident."

He suddenly understood how falling from a cliff felt like. So she had chosen the coward's way, hadn't she?

"This was _anything but the_ accident, and you know it. You wanted me to kiss you." Shikamaru growled.

She looked like he had slapped her. "It was a…misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding, my ass!" He was nearly screaming now. "When they bring you fish instead of meat – that's a misunderstanding; when you get lost because of wrong advice – that's a misunderstanding; but when you screw with my brain, with my soul, with my heart, it's – _oh fuck_ _it_!!"

Temari stood perfectly straight suddenly, glaring at him, "Don't you get all hysterical on me!" She hissed, "You're not fifteen anymore, so don't act like it!"

He slammed his fist into the door behind him, "You're the one acting fifteen now – not daring to face the reasons and consequences of your actions!"

"So what, gonna _cry _about it?" - She grabbed his wrist rudely, shaking his clenched fist between them. "What really drives me mad is that you are turning it around to make it seem like you're the one hurt here!"- She dropped his hand, "You want the truth? Fine!" She went silent for a moment, rubbing her temples. "It went too far. Way too far, Shikamaru. That was… until you kissed me… thought it would all be just for fun, you know, at least that's what I kept telling myself, but-but-but now I don't think that I can keep pretending, and it's inadmissible!" – She was angry at him, at herself, at all world, and he suddenly found out that he could understand her way of thought clearly. "Just imagine you will… oh _whatever_, I do not even want to think about it!"

She suddenly reached past him, pushing roughly and fast from exit, "Enough of this absurdity, I'm leaving!"

Temari had nearly opened it, when Shikamaru , in one swift motion, grabbed her hand from the doorknob and pushed her with all his weight, pressing to the door. It was cheap shot, but if it wouldn't allow her to run away, it would do.

"Let me go, you asshole! Don't you dare to stop me!"

"_Hell no_. You're gonna listen to me, whether you like it or not. So_ please_ stop struggling," He growled, blocking her attempts to break free, "Temari…Dammit, don't make me use Kagemane on you, it would be really low, but I'll do it!" She stopped twitching, but he could clearly feel her all tense against him. He pressed a little more, failing when trying not to notice all of her curves, clinging closely to him now, even if that was without her will and stiffening in a desperate attempt to stop himself from caressing her right there and right then .

"You think it's an oh-so-smooth decision – just to close your eyes and deny everything that's between us, don't you? That everything will fade away, if you only pretend not to pay attention?" He could say by Temari's tensing whist, clenched in his right hand, that her hands were balling into fists – the only reaction on his words,

"Wrong theory, genius-san. You know – even better than me maybe – how false it is!"

He half-closed his eyes and lowered head slightly, almost touching her neck now, "I'm so tired, Temari. Of these games, of pretending, of hilarious excuses that I pull to Izumo every time only to see the list of Suna casualties after each accident and battle I hear about!" slipping his left hand down the door, Shikamaru touched her waist, - "Most of the time I don't even know for sure, whether you're alive or not! It's the biggest cliché, but still – we are damn ninja, and we live on borrowed time!"

"I'm glad, that you at least understand that," she suddenly echoed dully, - "My list of close people is already mostly filled with dead, and I _don't want_ to add someone only to mourn for him later."

He smirked bitterly, "Now that is silly, don't you see?"

"Dare to humor my philosophy?"

"Just imagine, that I'm dead."

"Without problem right now."

"Seriously! Think about it! My grave, Chouji sobbing, new guide…"

She gasped audibly and suddenly went so limp, she could fall on the floor, had he not hold her.

"It's really late to decide whether you want us to be or not. I feel the same imagining you dead, you know, and it scares me, it really does; but you have to accept it, not run away.

"I love you. You're the only woman I have loved in my life, and even if you or I have only one week left to live, it doesn't change anything."

She was silent, and he knew that if she was not convinced now, he had failed and was losing the most precious person in his existence.

He looked at a rebellious lock fallen out of her ever present tails and curling down her neck, and gave in. If she would be gone tonight, it would be the last time he touched her, last time he held her, last time he could do just about anything with her.

He pressed his lips to the base of her neck, caressing and kissing and trailing them down her spine, clutching handfuls of her dress in his hand, inhaling and exhaling into her skin, not being able to stop even knowing that he was probably making things worse and messing up the rest that left. Here she was, in his hands, breathing and warm and familiar and distant, and things were going more and more out of hand with each second. He was beginning to pant into her shirttail.

"I, we…I…Yes."

He stopped mid-move.

"…Yes?"

In one motion she turned around – like there were no pressure of his body on her – and looked up, visibly shocked with herself, still hesistant, with crazy shining eyes and trembling lips.

"But if you'll m-make me regret this, I…"

"I won't."

His lips gravitated to hers in desperate attempt to erase all her forming words, and he knew he was kissing too rude and pressing her into the wall too hard and more likely than not, his fingers were going to leave marks on her skin; but right now it was okay, because she was clutching his shirt for dear life in response to his movements, half-biting his lips, and aching her back towards him. And it felt _mind-blowing_.

He couldn't track clearly when exactly she had lifted her leg and folded it around his waist, but he was feeling smooth skin of her thigh against his palm right now. Lips, cheeks, temple, neck, collarbone, little hollow in the middle of it, and this was Temari, and that was Temari, and he was sensing that it was not enough.

Her mews and muffled moans were pushing him too far from sanity to stop, and although Shikamaru always imagined their first time to be more slow-paced and far more thoughtful, soon he had found himself lifting the lap of her dress, almost tearing it from her shoulders and letting it hover around her waist limply, held to her body only by her goddamn obi. Her sandal dropped to the floor with a loud dry clack, and he could feel her tiny round heel on the small of his back now, encouraging and teasing. Unbuttoning everything necessary with haste, he gasped and groaned audibly at the sensation of her biting his shoulder. One move – and he was inside, causing her to scream shortly. He should probably start slow, but the scent of her sweat and vaguely spicy perfume was blocking all thoughts in his head right now, so he began to move fast, almost immediately, tasting her moans and cries and nearly dying to groan himself. He tried to kiss her, but no avail, since they were only banging their teeth.

She was all bumps and rapids inside, and he knew that it would not be long before everything would be over. Shikamaru lifted her slightly and had nearly lost his mind at feeling of her weight, pressing down on him. Temari's eyes appeared unfocused and dull, lips were parted slightly, with a sweat-soaked bang stuck to her bottom lip.

"I…oh…damn-I-love-you-OOH!" She half-mumbled, half-whimpered, and that was the last straw.

Maybe he was groaning or even screaming out loud, he didn't notice, because _this_ was beyond anything he ever felt before.

Seconds – or minutes - later he was shivering madly, holding panting woman he loved in shaky hands. Exiting her warm insides, Shikamaru tried to calm his breath and lifted her down on her legs slowly, embracing her instead and placing his head into curve of her shoulder; and with delight sensed Temari smiling weakly, touching his cheek with hers, and throwing her hands around his shoulders.

It felt_ marvelous _to know for sure.


End file.
